


The Missing Piece

by Ramsay_Boltons_Muse



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Masochism, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Sadism, Smut, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22582030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramsay_Boltons_Muse/pseuds/Ramsay_Boltons_Muse
Summary: You have been selected for a big promotion at Bolton Enterprises to work on none other than Ramsay Bolton’s team. The new job is certainly not what you expected, and neither is Ramsay. This is a modern Ramsay fanfic about his increasing territoriality and need to control the reader and her attempts to escape the dark and sadistic man she also can’t live without.
Relationships: Jon Snow & Reader, Jon Snow/Original Female Character(s), Jon Snow/Reader, Jon Snow/You, Ramsay Bolton & Reader, Ramsay Bolton/Myranda, Ramsay Bolton/Original Character(s), Ramsay Bolton/Original Female Character(s), Ramsay Bolton/Reader, Ramsay Bolton/You, ramsay bolton x reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

_ Fuck. _ You knew you were going to be late now as the subway sign that had previously been flashing “6 minutes” turns to “9 minutes” and then finally to “DELAY”. 

“Fuck!” You exclaim a little too loudly, and the elderly man standing next to you on the platform turns and looks at you. “Excuse me.” You duck your eyes and walk away, back toward the stairs to the street.  _ Uber it is.  _

You pump your long legs up the stairs, your black stilettos making quite the riot of noise in the otherwise quiet station. Normally you loved this stop, there were hardly any crowds, but today you were really not benefitting from the express train bypassing it. And of your many etiquette-focused rules, the one you really hated breaking was not arriving on time. You preferred living by the rule of ‘better an hour early than one minute late’, and today of all days was not in your favor to be late. You were starting a new job, and would be meeting the whole of your new team at 9am. 

Coming outside of the station, the cold air hit you at once, the wind biting at your exposed legs.  _ Why did I have to wear a dress today?  _ You groan, looking down at your watch only to realize you don’t even have time to order an Uber.  _ Taxi it is. _ You hail a cab, having no trouble catching the attention of the first one to drive by, your outfit choice finally providing some benefit.

“Wall Street. Bolton Enterprises.” You quickly provide the cross streets to the driver as he speeds away, but he doesn’t need them. Everyone knows the Bolton building. 

Seated in the cab, you work to calm your breathing, confident now that you will arrive on time.  _ It’s cool [Y/N], it’s cool. You’re fine.  _ A smile crosses your face.  _ Jesus, why do I talk to myself? I’m such a nut.  _

Buildings fly by as the taxi races downtown, the gleaming center of Wall Street coming into view. It really is an exciting day. You’d worked your ass off for the last year, proving yourself to be one of the brightest young recruits at the firm. No doubt your Yale degree in International Business was a qualifying factor as well, but you’d shown that you were more than a resume. Your dedication was unquestionable. Nonetheless it was a very competitive place, and much as you thought you deserved the promotion, you were surprised when you got the news just given how many other qualified people there were.

“Oh, just here.” You signal to the driver to stop outside the looming skyscraper, pay him and get out. You check your watch. 8:45am. Taking a deep breath, you walk into the bright marble lobby and head for the elevators. 

_ Oh, great. _ Today really isn’t your day, you think as you see that all but one of the elevators are already making their way up to top floors, with the last one’s doors already starting to close. You sprint towards it, knowing it’s useless. But just as you internally give up, you see a hand shoot out from the inside to hold the door and hear a familiar voice. 

“Good morning.” Jon’s face pokes out of the elevator and a big smile crosses your face. 

“You just saved me.” You nearly slide into the elevator, breathless. “The universe is against me today, I swear.” Jon’s eyes light up as he laughs. “No, really! Don’t laugh. The subway was late, these damned new heels are slowing me down, my hair is now a mess, and I almost missed the last elevator for at least the next seven minutes.”

Jon gives you a warm smile and you feel at ease at once. “I think you look great.” You smile back.

“What are you doing here anyway? Not that I’m not super glad to see you, but didn’t the Stark and Bolton negotiations close last week?”

Jon frowns. “Alas, it looks like we’ll have at least another month now. Roose apparently got a competitive business offer from Tywin Lannister, if you can believe it. So we are back to the drawing board. But I shouldn’t be telling you any of that.” Jon winks at you and you laugh.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” Your eyes catch a glimpse of the elevator buttons. “Oh shoot!” You had totally forgotten to press your floor button. Jon reads your reaction and goes to press 17 for you, but you stop him. “Oh, no, actually, can you press 28?” 

“28?” Jon whistles. “What important business do you have up there?” You smile really big.

“I got a promotion. It’s going to be floor 28 from now on! I’m going to be working on Ramsay Bolton’s team on strategic initiatives for the whole business. Can you believe it? Literally with Ramsay Bolton! You can’t get closer to the top than that.” 

You’re surprised when Jon doesn’t return your smile. 

“[Y/N], have you met Ramsay? He’s bad news.”

You’re taken aback at the comment. “Gosh Jon, I thought you’d be happy for me.”

Jon looks at you apologetically. “Shoot, that’s not what I meant. I’m really happy for you, on the promotion.” He tries to smile at you. “Just be careful around Ramsay, okay? He’s got a dangerous streak and a pension for games. And sadly, I think you’re kind of his type.”

You huff at that. “I’m not going to be sleeping with my new boss, Jon. And what a weird thing to say to me!” You are suddenly very glad there’s no one else in the elevator to hear this conversation.

The elevator comes to a stop at Jon’s floor. “Look, I’m sorry [Y/N]. I just care about you, you know? You’re a really great person and he’s a really bad person. This is my stop. I’ll see you later, okay?” John steps out and you just nod at him, not sure what to say.  _ This really has not been an ideal morning.  _

Two seconds later and the elevator dings, opening out onto Floor 28. You take a deep breath, push your long [H/C] hair behind your shoulders and walk out onto the floor.

***

“I can take your coat, miss.” A very pretty receptionist walks over to you and holds out her hand for your jacket.

“Oh, thank you.” You take off your black trench to reveal a tight elegant little black dress. 

“That’s a great dress. I’m Myranda by the way. You must be [Y/N]. Mr. Bolton told me he’s expecting you. Conference room 3, just to your left.” Myranda eyes you up and down as you walk away. 

You can see them all through the glass doors of the conference room. There are seven of them, all in suits, all fairly young, and all men. You check your watch, 8:57am, and open the door, your heart speeding up. 

It’s beautiful inside the room, a gorgeous handcrafted birch table in the center with a mixture of industrial and wooden accents adorning the chairs. The view out of the windows is incredible and you’re able to see the water, the morning sun making it sparkle. All of the talking stops as you enter the room, and everyone’s eyes snap to you. 

“Hello.” Your voice sounds a lot more confident than you feel. “It’s lovely to meet you all. I’m [Y/N].” You’re beginning to fear you’ve walked into the wrong room, when a tall broad-shouldered brunette stands up from one of the chairs and walks over to you. 

“Hi there.” He offers his hand and you shake it. “I’m Damon. Great to meet you [Y/N]. We’re all very excited to have you join the team.” The other men follow Damon’s lead and walk over to shake your hand, introducing themselves. You smile and nod with each new introduction until you’ve met everyone. Everyone except one person…

“Will Mr. Bolton be joining us?” You ask. “My apologies, it’s my first day in the new job and all I’ve been told is that Mr. Bolton will be walking me through my new responsibilities.” 

You think you catch two of the guys seated further back snicker. Damon smiles at you.

“Of course, it’s no problem at all. We didn’t expect you to come in here and present a master plan. Not yet, anyway.” He laughs and it’s a big booming laugh, turning the air around him a few shades brighter. “Yes, Ramsay will be joining us shortly. He’s just finishing something up -- Oh, speak of the devil.”

You hold your breath as you watch Ramsay through the glass of the conference room walls as he walks across the floor toward the room. Not walks, no. Strides. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone walk with such complete and utter power, and so effortlessly. He’s wearing a beautifully tailored dark blue suit, so dark it might as well have been black, accenting his toned and muscled body exceptionally well. The air of wealth and bourgeoisie royalty seems to emanate off of him. From afar, you think he’s probably very attractive, but when he opens the door and walks into the conference room, you lose your breath completely.

His eyes instantly fix themselves onto you, and you feel as if he is looking directly into the deepest parts of your soul. They are the most beautiful icy blue color that you have ever seen. Something straight out of a National Geographic documentary on Alaskan wildlife. Just pure carnal white ice blue.  _ Fuck.  _ You think that you might have said or thought ‘fuck’ more this morning than in an average week.  _ Fuck.  _

Ramsay’s eyes sweep over your body, coming back to linger on your lips and then boring into your eyes again. You feel as if he’s violating you somehow, the intensity of that gaze. Like he can see absolutely everything about who you are and what you want and and what you need.

In an instant, he lets your captive eyes go and looks at Damon.

“A girl? Interesting.” Ramsay leans against the door frame and takes something out of his pocket, turning it around in his hand. 

Damon chuckles. “Scores don’t lie. She’s outperformed them all. Men, women and rocks.” Ramsay smirks, and you realize Damon is referencing the recent acquisition of Frey Holdings, the old company’s logo two stone towers. 

You decide to take a risk.

“More like rubble than rocks.” 

Damon laughs out loud, some of the other men joining in. Ramsay’s eyes slowly move to focus on you again, contemplating something. You stay still under his gaze, waiting. You realize perfectly well that if he doesn’t like you for some reason, he can send you right back downstairs and pick out someone else.

“Come now Ramsay! She seems lovely. I for one, would appreciate more feminine energy in this place. It’s just cocks, cocks and more cocks as far as the eye can see.” Damon winks slyly at you and you smile at him, glad to have at least one friend. You turn back toward Ramsay.

It’s as if he decided something. In an instant, the brooding cool look on his face evaporates, replaced by a brightness and a large smile. It’s almost unsettling how quickly his demeanor changes. 

“You’re right Damon, I’m afraid I’ve been terribly rude. Forgive me, please. It’s been a long morning. It’s a pleasure to meet you [Y/N].” He offers out his hand and you shake it, tremors vibrating through your body as you feel his incredibly firm grip. 

“The pleasure is all mine Mr. Bolton. It’s a dream to be a part of this team. I’m really looking forward to working with you” 

Ramsay drops your hand. “Call me Ramsay. My father is ‘Mr. Bolton’.”

“Of course. Ramsay. My apologies sir.”

Ramsay’s eyes light up when you say that, and you can’t help but blush a little under his gaze.“That’s quite alright.” Ramsay pushes the door back open and holds it for you. “You’ve met the boys, why don’t I show you around the office.” It was less a question than a command. You had a feeling he wasn’t one to ask things often. As you walk out of the door, Ramsay shoots a look back at Damon and the rest of the men. “I expect all the documents for the Lannister call on my desk before noon. And, Damon, take care of our little situation in Conference Room A. Promptly.” You can see Damon nod, before you lose sight of the conference room as Ramsay leads the way down the hall to the left. He doesn’t really give you a tour as you walk, but you figure you don’t really need one anyway. You’re smart, you’ll figure out where things are. As you continue down this hall, there are less and less offices and doors until it’s simply one straight stretch of hallway with floor to ceiling windows on either side of you leading up to a large iron door at the end. As you walk, you feel as if you’re flying high above the ground, looking out of either window making you dizzy.

Ramsay’s quick pace comes to a stop. He turns back to look at you, and opens the heavy door, gesturing for you to walk in.

“Welcome to my office.”

As you walk into the large room, you find yourself in awe. You’re standing in what looks like a traditional study, complete with a roaring fireplace, bearskin rug, old bookshelves, and an intimidating-looking desk with two leather armchairs facing it. On both sides of the room, there are winding iron staircases that lead up to a second floor with a tiny balcony overlooking the room below. There are also two doors behind the desk, one closed and the other open, leading into what looks like a very modern kitchen with the same floor to ceiling windows overlooking the water.

You turn to look at Ramsay who seems to have been clocking your reaction.

“This is incredible! I’ve never seen an office like this before.” You walk over to the fireplace, putting your hand out to feel the heat. “How did you manage to put a real fireplace in here?” 

Ramsay shrugs. “Our city, our building, our rules.” 

“I would want to be at work all the time if this was my office.”

Ramsay smiles. “Well, it’s your lucky day. You’ll be working here with me darling.” You blush at that. Should he have called you darling?  _ Maybe it’s just a British thing.  _ You shrug it off. Ramsay points to a smaller but beautiful wooden desk on the opposite side of the room, one you hadn’t even noticed with the other extravagant elements competing for your attention. “That’s your desk. That’s the kitchen through there. Bathroom upstairs, complete with a shower. And there’s two bedrooms upstairs. I often work late and stay the night here.” Ramsay stepped closer to you. “You’re very welcome to adopt the same level of work ethic.” You feel a slight shiver down your spine. But Ramsay steps past you and sits at his desk, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “The second bedroom is at your disposal.” His eyes snap back to you suddenly and forcefully. “You will not, however, ever go into the room behind me without my express permission.”  _ The closed door room.  _ His voice was frightening and very dark. “Do I make myself clear? I don’t want to ask a second time. I hate asking a second time.” You swallow, beginning to understand why Jon had warned you.

“Yes, of course. It won’t be a problem sir.”

“Good!” Ramsay clapped his hands together. “I think we are going to have a lot of fun together, you and I. There are some papers on your desk. You’ll need to read them quite carefully.” His voice took on a mock serious tone. “We take confidentiality very seriously here at Bolton Enterprises.” He smirked at you. “This job won’t be what you were expecting I’m afraid. You see, I do business very differently. You could say I take a more hands-on approach. And you, apparently, have tested the highest in every skill that I need.” He locked eyes with you and you felt the electricity coursing through the airwaves from his eyes into yours. “You are the missing piece darling.”


	2. A Few Discoveries

The missing piece apparently was someone to do Ramsay Bolton’s bookkeeping. You sigh heavily, resting your head of your hand. At least, that’s how it seems to you as you flip through the piles and piles of documents on your desk. 

Ramsay had left you after having brought you to the office and you had now been reading papers for - you check your watch - three hours. You groan aloud.

When you applied for the job it had just listed the need for an additional member on the strategic business team, working closely with the President of Bolton Enterprises North America, Ramsay Bolton himself. 

Necessary skills had included strategic partnerships, public speaking and problem-solving. You took a written and multiple choice test, a psych evaluation and then apparently were selected as the top choice. That was about it. 

If you have to read another page on the ‘proper filing of financial documents’ you think you might throw yourself out of the fucking floor to ceiling windows.

You flip the page, and read the next section header, fully prepared for another twenty pages on document filing procedure, but you catch your breath. 

**Congratulations, Initiate, you’ve passed the first test.**

You feel a jolt of energy course through you, and continue reading.

**If you’ve gotten this far, you’re able to follow instructions correctly, so congratulations! I must say I’m a bit disappointed. It would have been delightful to dole out the punishment you would have received if you didn’t read through this properly.**

As you read, it’s as if you hear Ramsay’s voice in your head.

**But here we are. By this point you’re likely experiencing some confusion over what you’ll be doing in this new position of yours. Let me clear some things up for you.**

**This document wasn’t absolutely pointless. I do hate wasting time. For appearance purposes, you will be my assistant, managing the financial day-to-day operations of this team.**

**But in reality, Trainee, you’re joining the most important team in this business - the team that actually gets things done. Say goodbye to your corporate life Recruit! You’ll be running with the big boys now.**

You feel both fear and adrenaline building. 

**We do the dirty work, and we love it. And apparently, You love it too, according to your psych eval.**

**We coerce, threaten, torture, kill and otherwise ‘take care of’ the problems that arise. So get ready to get your hands dirty.** **_Very_ ** **dirty.**

 **Well, you can refuse of course. We’d be happy to feed you to the hounds and bring the runner-up upstairs to take your place. It’s really not a problem. We’re looking for a** **_good fit_ ** **here.**

**And we’ll be watching you carefully over the next few weeks to make sure that you are.**

Your heart is absolutely racing.

**Worried about murdering someone? Oh don’t worry! You’ll have plenty of time to learn. You’ll be training quite closely with me.**

**And the exciting news is that you’re clearly just itching to put your hands on someone. Time to embrace it!**

**Welcome to The Bastard’s Boys.**

As you finish reading, you look up to see Ramsay standing across the room from you, leaning against the fireplace and watching your reaction. You don’t remember hearing the door. 

“I see you’ve finally gotten to the good part.” Ramsay smirks at you.

“H-how did you know? I didn’t hear you come in.” Your voice sounds shaky. This is all absolutely insane. 

Ramsay answers you by flicking his eyes up to the ceiling, where a security camera is pointed directly at you. He smiles.

“So, darling, what do you think?” Those intense blue eyes scan your face. “Look, I’m as surprised as you. A naive little girl is the last thing I expected.” You bristle at that. Standing, you walk over to him.

“It’s certainly not what I was expecting.” Your heart is racing. But you can’t deny that there is some part of you that is on fire in a delicious way. “But let me assure you, sir, I’m not a naive little girl.” 

Ramsay steps closer to you, closing the space between you.

“Is that so?” Ramsay hums as he sweeps his eyes up and down over you. You stand tall with as much confidence as you can muster. His eyes bore into yours, calculating. “ _Hmm_. Maybe not.” 

You’re only inches from him and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body like a white fire. 

Despite your best efforts, you feel tiny butterflies in your stomach. _It’s as if he’s tracing and unlacing me with his eyes._ Your gaze lands on his chest for a moment and then his arms, his muscles clearly visible through his shirt. 

_Shut up!_ You want to scream at the butterflies. _Just shut up shut up shut up._ But they only seem to grow more fervently wild as he skillfully produces a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.

He inhales and then blows the smoke into your face. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” He turns and walks over to his desk, sitting down. 

You hate cigarettes, and yet you find the lingering acrid smell now settling into your dress fabric incredibly enticing. _Well, fuck. I’m fucked._

Ramsay calls your name, and you snap out of whatever little stupor you had been in.

“[Y/N]. You can head home for the day. I’ll be having company shortly, and I wouldn’t want to overwhelm you on your first day.” Ramsay smiles. “Well, I would. But that would be, sadly, _inadvisable_. You’ll be here at 7am tomorrow.” Again, it was less a question than a command. “I enjoy early mornings and I can’t stand being kept waiting. So don’t be late.” 

You nod, unable to find your voice. This is simply insane, all of this, and you can barely wrap your head around it all. You need fresh air. Turning from Ramsay, who you feel still watching you even though you can’t see him, you open the heavy door only to nearly crash into Damon, Alyn and Skinner.

“Oh hey there [Y/N]!” Damon’s eyes are filled with mirth. Alyn and Skinner also grin. You’re suddenly a bit more worried about Skinner’s name. It no longer seems like a harmless nickname.“Getting the lay of the land from our fearless leader?” Damon winks at Ramsay, but bends down as to whisper in your ear as he and the boys walk by you into the room. “Don’t worry. The first week is always the toughest. You’ll be fine!” He gives your shoulder a squeeze, before fully entering the room. “Ramsay!”

You let the door close behind you as you step into the hallway and make a b-line for the front desk and exit. _God I need a drink,_ you think. You’re fairly certain you’re going to make it to the elevators without having to deal with one more person, when Myranda steps out in front of you. 

“Hey.” She holds up your jacket. “Don’t forget this.” Myranda smiles at you. 

“Oh, thank you.” You mumble. Your head is swimming and you seriously need to get out of this building and process this all.

“In a hurry?” Myranda smells like roses and something, almost metallic. “Ramsay didn’t scare you away did he?” Her face morphs into a frown. “That would be terribly unfortunate if he did.” Even though her face is frowning, it seems to you that there is a smile underneath trying desperately to stay concealed. 

“No.” You straighten up and gain control over your voice. _Why am I letting a receptionist get the better of me?_ You wonder. “I’m heading home early. I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a nice day.” You take your coat from Myranda’s hands and put it on.

Myranda smiles again, but if you look closely enough, it's almost as if the corners of her mouth are wavering, desperate to keep themselves upturned. “Have a nice day [Y/N].” 

You nod at her and start to turn away when without notice her hand shoots out and grabs your arm. You gasp and stare at her hand in surprise before looking up at her eyes which are downright throwing daggers into yours.

“Sharpen your knives. You’ll need them.” With that, she lets your arm go and walks briskly away, turning a corner. 

You shake your head and hurry over to the elevators. _What the fuck is that supposed to mean?_ You wonder as the bell dings and the elevator doors open. 

***

A half hour later and you’re walking up the familiar stairs of your World War II walk-up downtown, relaxing at once as you unlock your door and the smell of pasta invades your senses: Alice is cooking again.

“Hello?” You call out and your favorite voice answers you.

“Hello BEAUTIFUL!” You smile big as Alice’s head pokes around the corner on the entryway, a big mixing bowl and a wooden spoon in her hand. “How are you my lovely?! Why are you here so early?” Alice’s long red hair is pinned up in a bun with several untamed wisps poking out here and there. “How was the big day?!”

As you open your mouth, you check yourself immediately. You can’t actually tell Alice a thing of value. “Um, it was great. The boss let me off early. But I’m going in very early tomorrow, so I should have an early night anyway.”

Alice smiles a big genuine smile at you. You realize it's the first truly well-meaning smile you’ve seen all day. “And by ‘the boss’ you do mean THE Ramsay Bolton I presume? Tell me about him, I’m just dying to know.” Alice winks at you. “He’s quite the looker.”

You can’t help but blush. “Alice! He’s my boss!” 

Alice laughs sweetly. “My dearest, you can’t deny reality. Boss or not!” 

You flash Alice a grin and walk over to your bedroom. “I’ll tell you later. For now I need to crash haha.”

“Whatever you say my love!” You know Alice is well meaning of course, but you right now you need time to just think. What on earth had you gotten yourself into? As you close the door to your room, you drop your bag and collapse onto your queen bed, your familiar cream colored room setting you at ease. 

You reach over to your bedside table and grab your journal and pen. _If I can’t talk about it, I can at least write about it._ You think as your pen starts flowing. The more that you write, the more it becomes clear to you:

There isn’t a getting out of this situation. Unless you fancy being eaten by dogs apparently, which, you don’t. _I guess there’s only one way about this. I’m going to have to become the best fucking employee._

***

Day two it seems is all about learning how Ramsay and the boys operate day to day. In fact, all of week one, according to Ramsay, will be about learning what’s expected of you by observation. 

Since 7am (you arrived at 6:45am of course) Ramsay has pulled you along from meeting to meeting, his only instruction in the morning a very snarky “take notes” when you asked what you should be doing. 

And so dressed in a pretty blue skirt and cream top with matching heels and your hair tied back in a ponytail, you’ve followed Ramsay around with a notebook and pen writing away furiously. Ramsay had laughed at you in the morning, saying you looked like a spry ambitious little journalist, writing every detail dutifully. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

Right now you were back in the big conference room near the elevators, looking over Ramsay’s shoulder at a huge map that he and the boys were pouring over. It was apparently the basement layout of an abandoned factory where a very important “negotiation” was going to happen next week. Ramsay needed to make sure that there were the proper defenses in place should things go awry.

Damon was commenting on the explosive potential of some old pipes in the foreground, when the elevator loudly dinged, causing everyone’s eyes to look up through the glass. You watched Ramsay straighten up last, his eyes raising slowly. _He knows what’s coming through the elevator._

The sudden silence of the room made you naturally fearful of what was about to come out, but -

“Jon!” The name escapes your lips unintentionally and you cover your mouth quickly, immediately regretting the outburst. Ramsay’s eyes snap to you before glaring back at Jon and the host of other men in suits coming out of the elevator and walking into the lobby. “I’m sorry.” You whisper. 

Without looking back at you, Ramsay’s voice comes out as a low hiss. “You know him?” You see Myranda greet the group at reception and point to the conference room further to the right of the one you’re in. You feel the eyes of the other Bastard’s Boys firmly on you.

You swallow. “Yes, we’re friends.” 

Ramsay spins back around and looks at you.

“Come here. I want to show you something.” You approach the table and stand next to Ramsay, placing your notepad and pen down on the table. “You see that spot there?” He points to an intersection on the map. “That’s where you’ll be standing darling.” He smiles darkly. You look up at him, your eyes connecting. You hadn’t expected to be participating in the action so soon. 

“Really?” You ask, a small flicker of excitement growing in you. He nods.

“Really.” You bend over the map, scanning your eyes over the different exits, entrances and structures, glancing up just in time to see Jon walk by the conference room with the rest of the group. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you and waves. 

You start to return the smile, when you see his smile suddenly disappear as his eyes fix on Ramsay, who in turn is staring straight back at him. With predatory instinct, Ramsay leans closer to you, his arm wrapping around your body to grip the table on the other side of you, caging you in. 

The entire interaction happens in less than the span of a second. You know Ramsay shouldn't be so close to you, but you also feel a jolt of electricity course through you as a feeling like fire emanates off his body and into you. 

_And anyway,_ you think, _he’s not_ **_touching me_ ** _per say._ So it can’t really be inappropriate. You make note of this detail for when you’ll tell Alice later. _Maybe he didn’t even mean to do it._

As Jon disappears down the hall, Ramsay straightens back up and paces away from you toward the window.

“Scum.” Damon spits on the ground. “Don’t know why Roose insists on having them meet him here for negotiations.” _So Roose Bolton is in town._

Although you’re listening to Damon, your eyes are glued to Ramsay whose pace is increasingly quickening as he walks back and forth across the conference room.

“I’m sorry Ramsay, I should have had Myranda warn us --” All at once Ramsay snaps and punches Damon squarely in the jaw. Damon stumbles from the blow, backing away. 

“Oh, you should have had Myranda warn us? You’ve had a sudden epiphany?” Ramsay is seething. “That traitorous bastard should never have been allowed to set foot here.”

You feel regret and fear coursing through you. _Fuck, fuck, now they know I’m friends with him. Oh god, I’m fucked._

As if he could hear your inner voice, Ramsay pivots and closes the gap between you, towering over you. 

“And **_you_ **.” He is looking at you with absolute disgust. “You can get out of my sight. Because I very badly want to skin something darling, and right now you’re an ideal contender.”

“I-I’m very sorry sir, I didn’t realize it was a problem. I didn’t know - I - I’m really sor--”

“Get out!” Ramsay roars at you, and you don’t have to be asked again, rushing out of the conference room and toward the door. 

This time Myranda doesn’t hand you your jacket as you flee to the elevators, she just looks directly at you and smiles.


	3. Either you're a masochist or an idiot

As the elevator comes to the final stop at the lobby, you realize you’re shaking. Of course you’d been yelled at in fights in the past, and you’d certainly done your own fair share of yelling, but never at work. The terrifying way Ramsay just looked at you is burning in your mind.

You shiver and step out of the elevator, heading straight for the front doors, when someone grabs your arm. You spin around, to see Jon.

“[Y/N]. Hey, hey. It’s only me.” You realize you must look like a fright, and try to smooth your features. “Are you okay?” Jon looks incredibly worried. 

You square your shoulders. “I’m fine.” Jon isn’t fooled though. 

“[Y/N], you’re clearly not fine. You’re shaking. What happened? I left to grab a file we forgot downstairs, and I saw you running for the elevator.”

The way Jon is looking at you makes you feel incredibly safe, and before you know it you let the exterior wall you put up slip away and you start to cry.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jon tenderly pulls you away from the center of the lobby and toward a bench against the wall. He sits you down and wraps an arm around you while you bury your face in his shoulder. “It’s okay. Tell me what happened.”

You look up at him as your words come out in choked up sobs. “I don’t know! Ramsay yelled at me to get out. He clearly detests you, I don’t know why. But he got so mad when I said you and I were friends.” You let out a few more sobs as Jon squeezes you tighter into him.

Jon grits his teeth. “God, I hate that he made you feel like this. He’s disgusting.” He sweeps his eyes over you, clearly concerned. “Why don’t we grab a coffee?” He sees the questioning look on your face, and gives you a knowing smile. “The guys upstairs won’t even realize I’m gone. You’re way more important to me [Y/N].” 

As Jon smiles at you, you realize how very secure and protected you feel in his arms. You hadn’t thought about him this way before, but as soon as you do, your heart gets warmer and warmer. 

“I couldn’t possibly take you away from work Jon.” You dry your eyes and straighten up, his arm still around you. “Besides, I think I really just want to get home and cry my eyes out there.” You manage a small smile.

Jon nods. “Okay, what about tomorrow then, before work? I have to come in early anyway. You want to meet on the 10th floor lounge and we can head to a coffee shop from there? And then you can vent all you want.” 

You nod. “Ya, that sounds great. Thank you.” Jon squeezes your shoulder and you feel all warm and tingly. 

“Of course [Y/N]. You mean a lot to me. It’s going to be okay, okay?” You sniffle and nod, both of you standing up. “Come here.” Jon gives you a tight hug and you find yourself smiling against him. 

You’re still smiling as you pull away and Jon heads back towards the elevators, giving you one last wave goodbye. 

You don’t know why, but your instincts tell you to look up at the ceiling. 

As you do, you can swear that you see one of the security cameras pointed directly at the quiet corner where you and Jon had been sitting just a moment ago, before it quickly spins away. You shake your head, deciding your mind must be playing tricks on you, and head for the front doors.

***

The next morning you’re up early and in very good spirits. _ It’s going to be a good day today.  _ You tell yourself as you head to the office. 

You had certainly cried enough tears last night to hydrate someone for a week.  _ Thank God for Alice and her amazing ability to put up with my waterwork-ridden breakdowns.  _ You smile as you get out of the subway stop and head towards the Bolton building. Just thinking about seeing Jon is making your heart feel warm. 

You’re practically prancing into the building and up the elevators to the 10th floor lounge, the entire office silent at 7am except for the security guards patrolling the lobby. __

_ 6:45am actually, _ you think to yourself as you check your watch. You’re even earlier than you planned. Then again, Jon is the early type, so he’ll probably already be there.

As you get out onto the 10th floor, you call Jon’s name out cheerily. When you don’t hear a response, you go investigating, rounding the corners and looking for him amidst the different exquisitely designed couches and seating areas. 

Suddenly you hear a noise, and turn a corner sharply to see something you truly do not expect. 

On the couch in front of you, a completely naked Myranda is stradling Jon, her hands reaching down to undo his belt. 

You drop your bag involuntarily and it makes a loud noise as it hits the floor, Myranda and Jon’s eyes snapping to you immediately. 

Myranda is absolutely grinning and Jon looks in shock. He tries to push Myranda off and stand, but you’re already turning and running back toward the elevators, tears welling up in your eyes. 

Jon tries to run after you.

“[Y/N], this isn’t what it looks like I swear! I have no idea what happened, I was telling her to leave! [Y/N], please!” He calls out after you, but you’re already in the elevators, the doors closing.

***

Frantically you wipe the tears from your eyes and try to steady your breath.  _ It’s okay [Y/N], it’s okay. You can’t think about that now. Just get to your desk.  _ You try to calm yourself as awful feelings of rejection course through you. You can’t believe you thought Jon cared for you.  _ Stupid, stupid, stupid.  _

The elevator dings and you get out. Knowing that awful Myranda won’t be there to take your coat beause she’s probably busy fucking Jon, you head straight back to your desk, concentrating all of your effort on not crying. 

But as you walk to the end of the hallway and the door to Ramsay’s office comes into view, you can’t help but feel the tears well up again. You try to steady your breath. Between not knowing what Ramsay is going to say to you after yesterday and the horrid feelings of betrayal that Jon just brought on, you don’t know how you will manage to handle today. 

You take a big breath, and open the door, praying that Ramsay isn’t in yet. But today just isn’t your day. 

“Good morning [Y/N].” Ramsay is seated comfortably in the armchair behind his desk, a big grin on his face. You don’t know what he could be so happy about at 7am in the morning. You let the door close behind you. 

“Good morning sir.” You say and walk over to your desk, but Ramsay stands and intercepts you. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice has a mocking tone to it. “You look upset.” 

Ramsay is standing in front of you now, blocking your path to the haven of your desk where you pray you’ll be able to distract yourself with work and get Jon out of your mind. You try to steel your face as best you can. 

“Nothing is the matter. I’m just a bit tired.”

Ramsay circles you as you stand perfectly still, his eyes consuming you. “Oh, I don’t think that’s the case.”  _ Why is he smiling?  _ You wonder. “You know darling, I don’t abide liars.” He stops in front of you again and looks straight through you with his intense blue eyes. 

“I was worried after yesterday.” You say, thinking that maybe he’ll drop it if you tell him some small truth. “You were quite upset with me.”

Ramsay snickers. “Yes. But that’s just not it, is it.”  _ How does he know I’m not telling him something?  _ You wonder. You always thought you were an expert at keeping people from the truth. But Ramsay seems to see right through you completely. 

He steps closer to you and again you feel the fire pulsating out of him. “I’ll give you one last chance to tell me sweetling, and if you don’t, and trust me I’ll know if you don’t, you won’t like what happens next.” He stares at you intensely, daring you to misstep.

“I thought someone cared for me, and then I saw him with someone else this morning.” You blurt out.

Ramsay laughs. “How pathetic.” 

You grow red at that, but Ramsay only continues.

“You thought someone cared for you? Oh, don’t be ridiculous darling. You’re so terribly boring in your pitiful little corporate dresses and heels. I’ve known you for less than three days, and I’m already sick of you.” 

You clench your fists involuntarily, and Ramsay seems to notice.

“Does that make you angry?” He crosses his arms and takes on a mockingly childish voice. “Your pretty Stark bastard was mean to you? He didn’t appreciate you?” 

You clench your fists harder, but then you realize something.  _ I never told him it was Jon.  _ Ramsay seems to watch the realization happen in your eyes and grins. 

“H-how did you know? You did this!?” You know you’re raising your voice to your boss, but you can’t help it, anger building inside you.

Ramsay scoffs. “I didn’t do anything. Jon Snow fucked Myranda all by himself. I just made it easier for him.” Tears are welling up in your eyes again and threatening to spill over. 

“Why would you do that?” Your voice comes out choked-up. 

Ramsay laughs. “He was going to do it anyway stupid girl. Who would ever want you?” Your hands clench harder into fists and you step closer to Ramsay. He smirks and steps closer to you, closing the space between you. “You want to hit me?” He looks down at your hands and then back up into your eyes. “Do it.” 

His body is almost up against yours, and you start to feel a warm sensation creeping into your tummy.  _ The fucking butterflies again.  _ You don’t understand how you could be feeling this way toward him after what he did. 

“I know you’re not going to do it.” Ramsay is stepping towards you again and you start to step backwards, but he matches your movements until you’re backed up against the wall. It feels like Ramsay is caging you in, and it’s like the butterflies are multiplying a million times over. 

Ramsay leans forward and whispers into your ear, his breath warm against your exposed neck. “I know what you are going to do though [Y/N].” Your breath starts to speed up. 

Just then the door opens, and Ramsay steps away from you, leaving you breathless against the wall. It’s Damon and Alyn.

“Ramsay.” Damon notices you up against the wall and shoots you a quick smile. “Hey [Y/N].” He turns back to Ramsay, whose look of annoyance at the unexpected entrance slowly spreads into a smile as the next words come out of Damon’s mouth. “Look, everything’s in place. Earlier than we thought, I know. But we’ll get him at noon today.” You wonder who they are going to “get”.

Ramsay turns to look at you and smiles wickedly. “Did you hear that [Y/N]? Your pretty bastard boy is going to die at noon today.” 

Your heart drops.  _ Not Jon, they’re not going to kill Jon?!  _ Even as much as he hurt you this morning, you don’t want him dead! Ramsay smirks watching your reaction. “Cheer up darling. I’m doing you a favor. One less person to tell you you’re just not good enough.” 

“Steaks before the kill?” Alyn asks and Damon and Ramsay smile.

“Naturally.” Damon says excitedly. “I’ve already made a reservation at the usual place, though we don’t need it of course.” Damon looks at you and then back to Ramsay. “Is [Y/N] coming?” 

Ramsay stares at you for a second as if weighing the decision. Your eyes are full of shock and anger. “No. We’ll just bring her the body back.” His eyes light up as he watches anger and helplessness spread across your face. 

As the boys walk out of the door, Ramsay stops in front of you and grabs your arm so roughly it’s likely to leave a bruise. He leans down to you. “You’ll stay here.” You flinch at his frightening tone. “Don’t get any noble ideas of warning dear Jon Snow. You can be certain you won’t like the consequences.” He releases your arm and walks out of the office.

But of course you can’t do that.  _ I have to warn Jon. Fuck, I have to warn Jon!  _ You think. You do your best to push the pain from this morning out of your mind. You can’t let that affect you now, you have to think clearly. 

You rack your brain for a way to avoid getting caught on any of Ramsay’s many security cameras, before realizing the solution is obvious.  _ I’ll just text him. There’s no way Ramsay will know, I could be texting anyone. If he asks, I’ll say I texted Alice about how awful this day is.  _ And it really has been an awful day.

You text Alice first just in case Ramsay demands to check your phone before shooting the clearest text possible to Jon:

**[Y/N]:** **_Forget about before, this is more important: Ramsay planning to kill you at 12pm today. Get to safety._ **

You hit send and pray that Jon checks his phone in time. You wait what seems an eternity before your phone vibrates. You sigh in relief and skim over the text quickly:

**Jon:** **_[Y/N] I’m so sorry about this morning. Myranda came in like that seconds before you got there. I don’t know why. Please, believe me. I don’t want her. And I would never hurt you._ **

You roll your eyes at that. _ Come on Jon, this is serious, _ you think. 

**Jon:** **_Okay, this is bad, but I’m not surprised. The Bastard’s Boys have been after me for months. I’m going to get out of here, but I’ll call you later okay? Please be safe. I don’t know what he'll do if he finds out you told me._ **

You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. At least you know now that Jon will be safe. It’s still several hours before noon. He’ll have plenty of time to get to someplace safe.

As you let your body relax, your phone vibrates, and you look down, expecting another message from Jon. 

**Unknown Sender:** **_I’m disappointed in you darling._ **

And then a second later:

**Unknown Sender:** **_\- Ramsay_ **

_ Fuck.  _

Your heart starts racing and you begin frantically to plan your escape, reaching for the door, knowing you need to get OUT. 

But the door swings open before you even touch it, and Ramsay, Damon and Alyn walk back in, their previous pleasant demeanour replaced by a disturbingly malicious air. 

Skinner also walks in, followed by Grunt who closes the office door and leans against it, ensuring there is no exit for you.

Ramsay walks over to his desk and leans against it as the other men settle themselves into the room sitting in chairs or leaning against the walls. 

Ramsay sighs and looks at his watch.

“Five minutes.” He tsks and shakes his head at you. “You lasted five minutes before telling dearest Jonny boy that he was in danger. That’s truly pathetic darling, even for you.”

You glance nervously around the room at the men. They all have a frightening look on their faces somewhere between impending deviance and glee. Even Damon, normally so bright and warm, is looking at you with devilish eyes. You shiver. 

Ramsay beckons to you from where you’re standing against the wall. “Come here.” 

When you don’t move right away, Ramsay gives Damon a look, and Damon roughly grabs your shoulders and pushes you into the center of the room, facing Ramsay. 

You don’t know what to say, so you keep your mouth shut.

“No apology?” Ramsay tsks again. “Either you’re a masochist or an idiot.” He walks up to you and grabs your chin harshly, forcing you to look up into his eyes. “The proper response is ‘ _ I’m sorry sir.’ _ ”

You look him dead in the eyes and say it back with a sarcastic air. You’ll be damned if you let him get the better of you after everything he’s done today. 

“I’m sorry sir.” 

Ramsay’s eyes widen and light up in a truly terrifying way, and you almost immediately regret your decision. 

“I think she wants to play boys.” He looks around the room at the men. “Strip her.”

The men are upon you at once, and you try to scream but Damon covers your mouth, his powerful body holding you in place as you struggle. 

You try to kick and hit them, but Damon holds you easily in place as Alyn and Skinner take their knives out and cut through the dress you are wearing, leaving you in only your bra and panties. 

Ramsay’s eyes light up as he takes you in, your matching black lace lingerie set clearly getting his attention. Damon is still covering your mouth and holding your arms behind your back as Ramsay approaches you.

“Don’t fret [Y/N]. I tested all of the boys, and all of them failed eventually. Everyone has their limits.” He reaches out and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Until they don’t.” 

He steps back and smiles, gesturing to the boys who are all staring hungrily at you.“I’ve taken something from each of them. Some learned more quickly than others.” Grinning widely, he shoots a glance at Alyn and you follow his gaze to notice for the first time that Alyn’s missing several fingers. 

Ramsay’s eyes snap back to you. “Do you have a favorite part [Y/N]?” You start to panic as he skillfully produces a knife from his pocket and starts turning it over and over in his hand as he looks at you. “We’re going to have to ensure you learn your lesson darling. You clearly need a good reminder of who you belong to now.” 

You start struggling again against Damon, trying desperately to twist out of his grip, tears starting to well up in your eyes. 

When you don’t stop struggling, Ramsay walks up to you and strikes you across your face. You stumble back from the blow into Damon, to discover with horror that there’s clearly a bulge in his pants. Ramsay smiles as he sees the realization and fear on your face.

“Oh, I think I know what I will take from you.” Your heart drops as you watch a wicked smile spread slowly across Ramsay’s face. “Gag her.” Ramsay looks to Damon who pulls a ball and gag out of his pocket and removes his hand from your face to fasten it securely over your mouth. 

“I’m going to make certain you won’t be talking to Jon Snow anymore.” Ramsay’s eyes look like a blue white fire. “Your allegiance is mine. Your body is mine. You are my property.” Ramsay’s hand caresses your face and he runs his thumb over your lips almost tenderly, before his hands run down your sides and over your bra, pinching your nipples lightly.

You try to thrash your body away from him, but you can’t deny that your nipples grow hard through your bra at his touch. Ramsay’s eyes sweep over you again before he looks to the boys.

“Tie her down to my desk.” You struggle wildly as Damon, Alyn and Skinner grab you and force you facedown on the desk. 

“No, no, no.” You can hear the glee in Ramsay’s voice. “I want to see the innocence leave her face when I rape her.” The boys flip you over before grabbing your arms and legs to tie you down to the corners of the large desk. You manage to land a kick to Damon’s face, resulting in a punch to your stomach, leaving you gasping for air. 

You try to scream again, but the gag makes it impossible as you realize that struggle is pointless as the boys finish tying you securely down. 

You watch as Ramsay removes his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and bulging arm muscles. He looks like a powerful greek god as he towers above you, and you are under his complete and ultimate control. He leans over you to whisper in your ear. 

“I’m going to fuck you until you bleed.” You shudder. Ramsay kisses your neck before biting down on it, eliciting a cry from you silenced by the gag. “And if you still have an attitude, then I’ll let the boys fuck you, each and every one of them.” 

Ramsay smiles as your eyes are consumed by fear. “And I’ll keep you tied up here, a real life sex doll for anyone to fuck, whenever they want, until you’ve learned your lesson.” 

He grabs your chin and tilts your head side to side, looking at the terror spread deliciously across your features. “And when I ask you who you belong to, what will you say?” Ramsay pops the ball out of your mouth, letting you speak. You swallow.

“Ramsay Bolton.” Your voice comes out sounding incredibly small. 

Ramsay nods and puts the ball back into your mouth. “Good girl.” He muses, before grabbing your panties and sliding them down your legs. You clench your legs together as you watch him look hungrily at you.

You watch with horror as he unbuckles his belt, revealing his massive cock. It’s so much larger than you ever imagined and you struggle again in your restraints as you imagine him splitting you apart with it. 

Your struggles only serve to excite him. Ramsay climbs on top of you and roughly pushes himself inside you with no warning. You scream through the gag and try in vain to escape as he starts a punishing rhythm, filling you up completely with each thrust. 

He forces you to stare into his eyes as the pain courses through you, his pupils dilating as he watches your eyes fill with agony.

But then something happens that he doesn’t expect: you start moaning. 


End file.
